Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 213, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 September 1916 — PATHETIC SCENES AMONG WOUNDED [ARTICLE]

PATHETIC SCENES AMONG WOUNDED

Procession of Mangled Men Through German Hospital on Verdun Front. ONTHEIRWAYIOFATHERLAND Roar of Guns Punctuates the Groans of Pain-Wracked Soldiers—Mutilated Men Think Only of .; the Enemy. j Berlin.—A German correspondent with the army of the crown prince near Verdun sends a graphic description to his newspaper of scenes in a little French village where the wounded are brought in and taken care of. “The songs of the German soldiers who are on leave in this village,” he writes, “become softer as the gray hospital wagon appears in the dusty street. The men are severely wounded and are unable to sit up. They are lying on their narrow Some are ill and others are only slightly wound--ed. The wounded now and then look sadly at the bindings of their Wounds. They tell of their sufferings. One of them was wounded by shrapnel during an attack by the enemy. He was able to crawl to the rear, and while his wounds were being dressed a shell exploded nearby and he was wounded a second time. But now we are al) moving to the rear —to Germany. Wounded Hobble In. “It is getting quite dark. The croaking of frogs comes from a pond not far away. The roar of guns is no longer deafening. The hospital wagon slowly moves up the street and stops before the barracks. Those Who are able at once alight. One, who received a rifle ball in his leg, jumps to -the ground with his good leg and hobbles off. Another takes an ill soldier on his back and carries him to the barracks. The physician meets us, glances at our papers and asks us to sit on the nearest bench while the severely wounded are at once taken care of by other physi cians. All around the room are beds occupied by Wounded soldiers who are in no condition to be sent back to Germany for the present. In one bed lies a man whose head is all tied up; another has had his arm amputated, another his leg. All are asleep, and some are smiling, laughing aryl talking intheir dreams —what sweet dreams they must be! —golden dreams. The man with his head all bound up is talking softly. The physician says that he had the worst wounds that he has yet seen during the war. , It was a question whether he could live, but the physicians brought him around all right, and today, when the wounded man asked for something to eat, they were so delighted they treated everyone with cigars.

“We are waiting for the automobile which is to take us to the nearest field hospital. No one says a word. The guns are again roaring. Looking outof the window we can see the clear starlight blue sky now and then vividly Illuminated by the fierce glare from exploding shells. Here and there is seen the searchlight on the watch for hostile aviators. One of tlie wounded remarks: “ ‘lt would just be my luck to have some aviator drop a bomb on me now after all I have gone through.’ Is Short of Time. “The door is opened suddenly, and a soldier stumbles in. He is holding his head with both hands and the blood is streaming down his face. H» quietly tells the physician that 1n» would like to have his wounds dressed. He adds that he was driving an ammunition wagon when he was wounded. As the attendant examines his wounds the soldier remarks that he has not much time to spare, gs the ammunition wagon is awaiting outside and it is his . duty to deliver the ammunition promptly. He tells the physician simply to wash his wounds and let him be off. The physician tells him quietly and firmly that that is impossible. He must remain; his wounds are more serious than he imagines. “Everything is quiet again and nothing is heard except the deep breathing of the sleeping wounded. Near me one man awakens and sits up in his bed. He looks at me with two staring, feverish eyes: “‘How is it with the French t he asks me. I notice that h|s wounds are in the chest. “What a question to ask, I said to myself. Here is a man seriously wounded, and from a deep sleep he suddenly awakes and all he asks is about the enemy. Not a word about his mother or his home, not a word of complaint about his sufferings. “ ‘The French are worse off than we are,’ I answered him. “That seemed to satisfy him, and then he asked for a drink of water. “Just then the automobile stops in front of the door and those of us not severely wounded are escorted outside and placed in the machine. Adieu! And the automobile starts on its journey to that beloved place where clean beds and loving hands await to nurse us.